The Lost Prophecy of the Dragon
by Maischeph
Summary: When Rand found another piece to the puzzle of Tarmon Gai'don, he didn't expect it to add to the clutter. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Naught belongs to me, with the exception of the plot. All else is the creation and property of Robert Jordan.  
  
Author's Note: Hello people, this is my first fanfic, so let's be gentle with the new fanfiction author, shall we? Anyhoo, I was just bored one day and I started fiddling about with the titles of the books and, well...this came about. I expanded on it a bit and voila!  
  
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Continued Prophecies of the Dragon  
  
By: Maischeph  
  
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Rand's hand trembled slightly as he pulled tattered, wrinkled manuscript from a rotted leather folder. When he had pulled up the floorboard to find another part of the Karaethon Cycle that had fallen into the crack and under the floorboard, he had not expected this one. But, as it would happen, he had found another than what he was looking for. A swirl of ta'veren he assumed.  
  
It wasn't really the excitement of finding the manuscript that made his hand tremble, but rather the knowledge that no other could have read this paper for centuries or more, and that it was just one more bit to help clear the path to victory in Tarmon Gai'don. His now blue, now gray eyes squinted to read the neatly scrawled, miniscule script on the yellowed paper:  
  
//The founding of the Eye of the World shall bring on the Great Hunt; at the finish of the Hunt shall the Dragon Reborn come; with the coming of the Dragon shall be the shadow rising to meet his Return; as the shadow rises shall the fires of heaven roar; to fan these fires shall be the Lord of Chaos; for this Lord shall there be a Crown of Swords; with the Crown upon his head shall this Lord walk a path of daggers; at the end of the path shall be winter's heart a-waiting; when winter's heart is split shall the crossroads of twilight present a choice.//  
  
Rand took a moment to run his hand through his reddish curls as he stood, deep in thought. He was sure the capitalization of certain words meant something, and he was also quite sure that he was the Lord of Chaos mentioned. He certainly had brought enough of it already. //Yes,// Lews Therin giggled madly, //and surely we will bring more.// //We?// Rand replied, but got no answer. Lews Therin had fled again to the recesses of his mind, weeping over his Ilyena. Again Rand turned his mind on the manuscript. Was he walking the path of daggers now? He had the Crown of Swords upon his head right at that moment, in fact. With a sigh he started to put the manuscript back in the folder. Or maybe he was already to the part where winter's heart waited? He started to feel foolish, thinking like that. However, a scrawl on the back of the script caught his eye, and all thoughts of foolishness forgotten he turned the paper over and began to read:  
  
//they will come//  
  
//they will stop the flow//  
  
//they will not wait//  
  
//they will tear asunder any blow//  
  
Now that was most certainly a puzzle. It was obviously not a part of the manuscript, as the handwriting was different, besides the fact that it looked newer. He had some thoughts on who the strange poem might be speaking of, though. With a deep sigh, he started to replace the paper, again. Until yet another scrawl caught his eye. It was in the lower left- hand corner, in a dark red ink. Dark red? It looked like dried blood... With an abrupt shake of his head Rand read it:  
  
//I cannot, or will not, interpret...them. I leave you to do that, as you will.//  
  
He began to feel uneasy, and a prickling grew between his shoulder blades. It was an effort not to look over his shoulder. The finality of the last words of the odd message was so...certain, that the reader would interpret them...whoever they were. But it also seemed hesitant, and left the possibility of who they were wide open. For an odd reason, he almost felt the words were directed at him. But that was impossible. And the ink was in red, blood red... Rand blinked and stared down at the crumpled ball of paper in his hand. Had he done that to the manuscript? Slowly he let it drop to the floor. That was one part of the Prophecies he had no wish to keep. Besides, he did not think he would forget it anytime soon.  
  
He turned sharply on his heel and strode out of the room, but in his haste forgot to close the door. And that was how, minutes after his departure, a short, pale figure with dark hair swept into the room with the sound of rustling silk skirts. Carefully, she -- for indeed, it was a female -- she picked up the crumpled paper and tucked it delicately into a pouch at her waist with a satisfied smile. She turned and started to sweep out the room, only looking back once to make sure no sign of her presence remained. As she did so, faint moonlight from a nearby window caught the blue gem that hung on her pale forehead from a fine golden chain. Unhurriedly, she turned back and glided swiftly down the hallway, and was soon lost among the gloom.  
  
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End Note: You like? If so, a review would be nice ^_^ Flames would also be nice, since I occasionally get cold when I'm typing. I always accept compliments (of course =) but I also don't mind any corrections from readers: incorrect spelling, grammar, or something amiss in the plot. If you didn't like my story, you're welcome to put down why and how I could make it better. Well, that seems to be it, so toodles! 


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